


Who Knew Diner Boys Like Near-Death Experiences?

by Merisum



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blue is a stray cat, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith is a thief, Lance wants an adventure, Lance wears a vest, M/M, Shiro is a tired cop, Trapped in a Small Space Trope, early 1900s AU, keith in suspenders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merisum/pseuds/Merisum
Summary: Though Keith constantly makes it clear that he isn’t willing to talk to anyone, people seem to be attracted to him. They constantly yell at him through their car windows and chase him down the sidewalk, saying things like: “stop in the name of the law!” and “get back here you little-.”It was hard being so wanted.Or: A story in which Keith is a thief and Lance is a diner boy looking for an adventure((Based off the trapped in a small space trope))
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91





	Who Knew Diner Boys Like Near-Death Experiences?

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant for something else but that didn’t end up happening so here you go. The prompt/trope for this was ‘trapped in a small space’. Enjoy!

Though Keith constantly makes it clear that he isn’t willing to talk to anyone, people seem to be attracted to him. They constantly yell at him through their car windows and chase him down the sidewalk, saying things like: “stop in the name of the law!” and “get back here you little-.” 

It was hard being so wanted.

Keith had to give credit to his most eccentric fan, Detective Shirogane, who was far more fit and clever than the rest of the beer-bellied coppers. The detective had chased after the boy far too many times to count, not giving up even after his coworkers were bent over with red faces. It was a shock to Keith when Shiro had first appeared, forcing him to run three times as long as usual before he managed to escape.

Keith would never admit that seeing the detective made him nervous, dreading the inevitable pursuit. For instance, now, where Keith is cornered in a quaint bakery, watching as the detective and his partner head for the door. He turned his back to the pair and pulled his cap down over his face.

The bell jingled cheerfully as the two walked in, completely oblivious.

“Welcome!” the large man at the counter exclaimed merrily, “what can I do for you fellas?”

Keith loved distractions. Before the man could even finish his sentence, Keith had already stuffed a hefty loaf in his beaten up rucksack. If he was going to have to run from Shiro again, it might as well be worth it.

“Hey! Thief!” The man yelled, but Keith was already out the door.

Shiro was on his heels in seconds, following Keith as he slipped expertly through the crowded sidewalk. The detective was catching up to him fast, their shoes slapping the sidewalk in rapid succession. 

Keith didn’t think about his actions. Thought led to patterns, which made him predictable. So at the last possible second, he would make a ninety-degree turn across the road or into an alleyway that made Shiro hesitate for just enough time that he never caught up.

The sun was setting as Keith plunged yet again into another gloomy alley, his worn-out boots helping him not slip on the grime that covered the floor in wet layers. Newspapers dissolved in chunky puddles, their black text melting off the pages. One particular newspaper, its headline exclaiming something about the prohibition, watched the pair from above as it glided on the wind.

It was inevitable that they hit a dead-end, and Keith was grateful when they did. He turned around to see Shiro slowing down and equally out of breath.

“For the last time. . .” Shiro started, taking in a gulp of air, “will you please let me get you some food and shelter for just one night? You’re not in a good place and I want to help you—”

“I’ve heard that one before, dear detective,” Keith interrupted, pushing as much exasperation into his voice as he could muster. “Besides, jail wouldn’t look so good on my resume.”

“And thievery does?”

“I prefer chivalrous borrower.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, taking slow steps toward Keith. “You—”

“Sorry, detective, I’d love to chat—biscuits, tea, the whole shebang—but I have some business I need to take care of so I’ll just be heading out,” Keith said, securing his bag and jumping up. His calloused hands gripped a concrete windowsill and his boots kicked off the bricks, giving him the momentum he needed to pull himself up.

“Hey!” Shiro yelled, running over to him. By the time he had reached the windowsill, Keith was already halfway up the building. Climbing was his one strength against the determined cop, years of practice making him the best in the city.

The detective huffed, knowing he had no chance trying to follow Keith. His eyes scanned the building before this mouth twitched up into a little grin and he was sprinting out of the alley. Keith’s first instinct was to keep climbing, the higher the better, but he knew Shiro was smarter than that.

So where did he go?

Keith’s gut told him to climb back down, which was easier said than done. Getting up was one thing, getting down was a whole new story. But Keith listened anyways, trying desperately not to lose his grip on the small ledges and tumble to the concrete.

It was during this attempt that he heard shuffling above him. He looked up to see Shiro leaning over the top of the building, looking rather annoyed.

“Aw, you didn’t climb all those stairs for little old me, did you?” Keith teased as he hopped down the last few feet. Shiro just glared at him. “Nice talk, old man, but I’ll be heading out now. Tell your partner he got a new record for how long he actually bothers to run after me.”

Shiro sighed, finally giving up as he watched the young thief stroll out of the alley and disappear into the busy sidewalk.

~~~~~

It was a slow day at the family-owned McClain diner, leading to boredom for its workers. Lance wiped down the bar stools for what felt like the 100th time while his brother, Marco, mopped the checkered floors lazily. Rachel traced words on the countertops with her fingers over and over again, as if she was writing a whole story from memory into the granite. Their parents were hidden away in the kitchen cleaning up, talking to each other in hushed tones. The rest of their family was tucked away upstairs where they all lived. 

There were nearly a dozen of them that shared the small space above the diner. The three small rooms had hardly any furniture aside from two dressers in two of the rooms and a broken full-length mirror in the third. There were two makeshift cots in each room that they had to share, occasionally leading to fights over who has to sleep where. Books that no one had time to read were stacked next to the dressers, collecting dust as the months wore on.

It was boring, to say the least. Lance’s family had come to America from Cuba because it was supposed to be the land of opportunity and freedom. They weren’t told it was their freedom to be starved and oppressed.

Ever since they had moved, Lance had waited for something exciting to happen. He wanted to be dragged away from his mundane life by someone he just met and sent on a perilous quest that would be full of adventure and romance. Sure, he loves his family and wouldn’t give them up for anything, but he wishes he could do more.

If he was ever going to have the action-packed adventure he desired, it definitely wasn’t going to start while he was taking out the trash. 

The McClains ate most of the food that wasn’t up to the customer’s satisfaction, plus the leftovers from when papá gets excited and makes too much. Unfortunately, there are always a couple of meals that go to waste. Lance couldn’t help but groan at the just barely expired food he was forced to toss out, knowing that they could be of use to  _ somebody _ . 

When Lance went to lift the lid of the tin can, a familiar obstacle appeared. Blue must have been a gorgeous cat at some point, but life as a stray hadn’t been kind to her. Her white fur was stained grey and her tail was a bit wonky, leading to her losing her balance more often than not. Lance had started to call her Blue because of her eyes. They looked as though they had been replaced with sapphires, reflecting every bit of light and deeper than the ocean. If there was anybody that was going to lead Lance on a thrilling adventure, it would be Blue.

As graceful as ever, Blue nearly missed the trashcan when she went to jump on top of it.

Lance just smiled and scratched her chin, Blue purring loudly and shaking the whole can in response. She tilted her head curiously when Lance drew back his hand to pick through the plastic bin of scraps. Luckily, he found a few bits of meat and set them down on the lid of the can where Blue happily scarfed them down.

Lance set the bin of scraps on the floor to merrily scratched the stray cat's head, whispering “you’re such a good girl” and “such a pretty kitty” to her. He didn’t even notice how close he had gotten to her until Blue’s paw was on his face, holding him away from her precious treats.

Lance just laughed, grinning wildly even as Blue’s paw started to slip and slide further down his face.

“I would die for you, Blue,” Lance said as Blue licked her paws clean, “You can have all the chicken you want, just don’t tell mamá.”

“You think the cat’d be willing to share?”

It took Lance a second to realize that he had absolutely no idea who had just spoken, jumping back and looking around the poorly lit alleyway with wide eyes. He didn’t hesitate to scoop up a stray spoon off the ground, holding it out and pointing it at every little thing that moved, real or imaginary.

“Who—Who’s there?” Real smooth Lance, real smooth.

“...a spoon? Seriously?” came the unimpressed voice again, “what’re you gonna do? Scoop my eyes out?”

This time Lance was able to tell where the voice was coming from: a still figure leaning against the brick in the shadows. 

“I might,” Lance responded, gripping his makeshift weapon until his knuckles went white, “then maybe you would learn not to sneak up on people.”

Despite himself, Keith chuckled. “Look, man,” he started, pushing off the wall and slowly walking toward the startled boy, “I just came by to  _ kindly _ ask if you’d be willing to spare any food for a poor soul such as myself.”

Now that the intruder was in the light, Lance could inspect him with ease. His eyes first fell on the purplish scar that cut across his right cheek and continued down his pale neck, disappearing beneath his shirt. A newsies cap could hardly contain his mess of black hair that was too long in the back and undoubtedly matted. He wore a dirty, loose white shirt tucked into brown pants. His boots looked like they were at their breaking point, hardly fitting his foot and far too thin. 

When the boy tilted his head to get a better look at Lance, Lance found that his eyes were the most stunning thing he had ever seen (other than Blue, of course). At first, they looked like a dull blue-grey, but as the light flickered they flashed dark violet with speckles of yellow.

The boy was handsome, in a roguish and scoundrelly way.

It didn’t take long for Keith to observe the boy in front of him. He had tanned skin and dusty brown hair. His features were sharp and his body was long and lanky, just a little taller than Keith. His eyes were a deep blue, the color Keith imagined the ocean to be. He was wearing a light green shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, under a dark grey vest. His pants matched his vest, but were too short for his long legs. The best part of his outfit, by far, was the little grey bow tie tied around his neck.

Most importantly though, was the plastic bin full of scraps leftover from the diner at the boys feet.

“I don’t think sneaking up on someone in the dark is exactly kind,” Lance scoffed, crossing his arms.

Keith just shrugged.

“What’s your name?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy.”

“I would, that’s why I asked, dumbass.”

Keith rolled his eyes and fought a smile.

“Keith, and you are?”

He wasn’t sure why he would give that information away, especially since Shiro had chased him down this street and past the diner that morning. He just couldn’t resist.

The name was familiar, but Lance just waved it off thinking that it was just a customer's name that got stuck in his head.

“Lance.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, Blue watching the scene wearily. Then it clicked, and Lance remembered exactly why his name felt so familiar. He took a little step back.

“Wait…Keith as in the Keith that stole from my buddy’s bakery next door?”

Keith pushed off the wall warily, ready to run in case this boy was planning on calling out for help or something of that nature.

“I saw you run past the diner! You were so fast!” Lance awed, which was definitely not what Keith was expecting. Was it some sort of twisted trap? “And the detective was right on your tail! How did you get away from him? His partner quit really quickly and ended up ordering a coke from our diner which I thought was pretty pathetic. He was breathing so heavily when he came in we thought he was going to pass out!”

Keith just blinked in surprise. This kid did not shut up.

“That was actually a record for how far he bothered to chase me,” Keith said with a smirk, “most of the time he doesn’t even bother and the detective has to do all the work.”

Lance scoffed. “Seriously?”

“Yup.”

“How’d you get away from the detective?” Lance asked excitedly, waving his hands animatedly. He was still holding the spoon, but his grip had loosened and he twirled it with ease between his long fingers. His blue eyes twinkled with curiosity in the flickering white light. Keith would have thought that by now he would have run screaming or used the spoon for something other than a baton. 

It took Keith a second to remember how to speak. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he said with a wink.

Lance was not impressed with his response. He opened his mouth to speak but was promptly interrupted by a door opening. It was the back door to the bakery next door, a large boy emerging into the alley with a trash bag in hand.

At the sound, Blue jumped on Lance’s shoulders, her claws digging into his skin through his shirt. She miscalculated her leap, ramming her head into Lance’s face and nearly falling off when he stumbled backward.

“Hey, Lance!” Hunk, the son of the baker, called out merrily.

Blue moved so that she was slung over Lance’s neck, purring under his chin and her tail tickling his cheek. Lance grumbled but pet her nonetheless.

“Hey, Hunk! Guess who I—” Lance started, turning to where Keith had previously resided, only to find that the boy had vanished. He turned on his heel, peering into the darkness to find a sign of the boy.

“What’s wrong, buddy? Are you feeling okay?” Hunk asked, putting his trash in the can.

“I’m fine, Hunk. I just—nevermind. How has the bakery been doing?”

Hunk groaned. “My dad is really mad. Some kid stole a loaf of bread, Detective Shirogane paid for it after he got away but now he’s grumbling about how our generation has ‘no morals’ and how I ‘better not be like that no good thief’ and stuff like that.”

“That’s rough, buddy.”

~~~~~

Keith was an idiot and he knew it. He just wanted some handouts from the cute boy behind the diner, but ended up empty-handed and something wrong with his stomach. He figured it was hunger that led to the uncomfortable twisting and fluttering of butterflies in his gut.

He slept in an alley that night, surrounded by the sleeping bodies of the other street rats. Keith could tell they were starving and cold, huddled up together and shaking in their sleep. He couldn’t help but wonder what led these children to this fate. 

It was dangerous to assume, but for once Keith let his mind wander. He found himself placing each of these children in his shoes, growing up without a mother and suffering through the loss of a father. 

Keith continued to imagine the impossible scenarios of what these kids he’d never met would have done in his place as he broke off a piece of the bread he had stolen the day before and ate it slowly. Perhaps it was because of the world he had created in his head and the personalities and names he had given the children, that he ultimately decided it was time to share his fortune.

A greyish-white cat appeared as he deposited the bites of bread next to the kids, purring loudly and weaving between Keith's feet. Its tail was a bit wonky and it often misstepped and stumbled, stepping on his boots.

“Shhh,” Keith shushed, “quiet, cat.”

If one of the kids woke up and saw that it was Keith that was giving out the food, he would definitely be marked as someone with enough food to share. He’d constantly be swarmed, grubby hands reaching up to him and begging him for something he wouldn’t have.

Keith cursed his overactive imagination.

“Don’t want to be seen being a good person, bad boy?” a familiar voice asked.

Keith turned on his heel, his bag swinging and hitting his back, immediately catching sight of a familiar diner boy standing just inside the alley with a smirk. The cat strolled over to the boy, laying at his feet and looking up at Keith with wide blue eyes.

“Blue found you here,” Lance said, squatting down to pet the cat who purred happily in response. “I always knew you’d be the one to lead me on an adventure. Yes, yes I did,” he cooed to the cat in a whisper.

Keith moved quickly, crouching down next to Lance and covering his mouth with his hand. Lance made a muffled sound of protest, eyebrows furrowing together. The only warning Keith got was a mischievous glint in Lance’s bright blue eyes before he felt something wet against his hand.

Keith gave the smug boy a disgusted look before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pushing him up against the brick wall. The motion threw off Lance’s balance and he ended up falling on his butt and not wanting to know why the concrete was squishy.

“Hey!” Lance exclaimed in protest.

“Shh,” Keith shushed, glancing around as the kids sniffled and shifted, but didn’t open their eyes. “You’ll get us both in trouble.”

“Trouble? How would I—“

“Shh!”

“Sorry!”

Keith sighed, mentally facepalming and hanging his head to think for a second. It didn’t take long, and he ultimately decided that this boy was going to be the death of him. A cruel conclusion, considering they had just met.

When he looked up, Lance hadn’t moved. The diner boy was frozen in place, his arms up in front of him as a shield between himself and Keith. His whole body was tense and there was a slight tremble in his hands. Keith realized he must have frightened the boy, and slowly let go of his shirt and slid backward. Lance didn’t move.

This was the best day of Lance’s life. He had been praying for an adventure for months, years even, and here it was right in front of him. He was shaking in excitement, wondering what could be next for the pair. Would they uncover a secret operation below the city? How about they discover the existence of supernatural beings, hardly escaping with their lives? They could be sent to space by robotic lions or realize their heritage isn’t what it seems! The possibilities were endless.

What Lance didn’t imagine, however, was getting chased by the cops.

“Hey!” A gruff voice said from the sidewalk where people were just starting their walk to work. “You there!” The chubby cop pointed a meaty finger at Keith, his other hand moving to his belt.

Keith was fast. In seconds he had jumped to his feet and dragged Lance up with him, yelling at him to run and taking off down the sidewalk. Keith didn’t let go of Lance’s arm as they slipped past pedestrians and took random, sharp turns that Lance never saw coming.

At some point, Lance made the mistake of looking back, his heart stopping when he saw the cop running with his finger on the trigger of a small revolver. So much for gun safety.

“Why is he chasing us with a gun?” Lance asked just as Keith did a complete 90 degree turn down another street, causing Lance to yelp.

“That Coppa tends to be on the trigger happy side,” Keith replied coolly, gripping Lance tighter at the thought and scanning the street for a place to hide.

“Isn’t that—I don’t know—Illegal or something?”

They turned into an alley.

“They’re cops, nothing is illegal for them.”

“That’s not right.”

“Astute observation,” Keith scoffed, then halted suddenly. They were in an alley behind some shops, half a dozen trash cans stacked against the wall.

“What are we doing?! He’s right behind—“

Keith dragged Lance to the cans abruptly, cutting off his sentence. There was a space just big enough for the two boys to squeeze behind that led to a small indent in the brick wall. Keith dragged Lance behind the cans, careful not to tip them over and give away their position.

“Go in there,” Keith deadpanned, lazily pointing at the small cove in the wall.

“What?! We can’t fit in—“

This time, the pounding of feet interrupted Lance.

Keith took this as a signal to shove Lance in himself. Wanting to be quick, he pushed both of them in at the same time, ignoring how the brick scraped his back and how tightly they were pressed together.

“This way!”

“We’ve got him now!”

“Stop!”

Keith put his forearms against the wall on either side of Lance’s head so that he could peer out and see the cops running through the alley past the trash cans. He ducked away when one of the cops looked back, squinting at the alley and looking behind the cans before continuing on.

Keith could feel Lance’s pounding heart against his chest, knowing that Lance probably felt the same thing. They were both out of breath, trying to soften their breaths in favor of not being heard.

“We’re clear,” Keith said after a few anxious minutes, letting out a long breath.

Lance found himself unable to do the same. He was acutely aware of how close they were, their torsos practically morphed together and their legs knocking into each other awkwardly. Not to mention how Keith’s arms still resided right beside Lance’s head. Meanwhile, Lance’s arms were ramrod straight at his side.

Lance choked when Keith tried to squeeze out of the small space, their hips locked together like a puzzle and refusing to budge. Confused and oblivious to Lance’s inner turmoil, Keith tried moving up in order to set them free.

“Stop!” Lance practically screamed as Keith kept moving around in an attempt to get them out, placing his hands on Keith’s shoulder to stop him from moving. He had no way of hiding his burning face when Keith looked at him, clearly confused and surprised by his outburst.

It took a minute for their situation to click in Keith’s mind.

“Aw, a bit flustered there, aren’t you?” Keith teased, whispering in Lance’s ear.

“Shut it.”

“Who knew that diner boys like near-death experiences?”

“That’s not exactly—“

“Oh, come on. I thought you said you wanted an adventure, pretty boy.”

It took Lance a moment to realize that wasn’t the first time Keith had called him that.

“An adventure isn’t complete without a little romance, now is it?”

It was all big talk, Lance realized. He just had to find a way to shut him up.

So Lance took the obvious route, grabbing the other boys chin and pressing their lips together. Keith jumped (well, he tried to), but didn’t break away. Soon enough, his face was just as red as the blue-eyed boy.

When Lance pulled away, Keith was completely frozen.

“Umm…hello? Are you broken?” Lance questioned, knocking on Keith’s head in an attempt to get him to react. “Hellooo? Is anyone home?”

Keith swatted Lance’s hand away, glaring at him.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Lance said suddenly, making Keith’s heart throb. He smirked as Keith hid his face in his hands. “Not so tough now, are you?” He chuckled and Keith swore his heart skipped a beat.

“Shut up,” Keith groaned, shoving Lance’s face with his hand.

Lance just laughed. Soon, Keith was laughing right along with him. Their eyes were pinched shut so they didn’t see a figure peer around the corner.

“So  _ this  _ is how I catch you,” a new voice said right next to them, making both the boys yelp and bang their heads together in their panic.

Keith rubbed his forehead. “Well hello there, Detective. Funny seeing you here.”

Shiro crossed his arms and chuckled. “Need some help there, boys?”

“Yes, please,” Lance piped in a little too quickly.

“You’re a McClain, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I was actually out here looking for you, your sister said you’d gone missing. She figured you just went out for some fresh air but asked me to keep an eye out.”

“Oh, sorry for the trouble.” Lance hadn't even thought about the diner.

“Are you going to help us out or not?” Keith snapped, wanting to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

“Are you going to let me arrest you?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” Keith said, you know, like a liar.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you understood any of the references or if you enjoyed! Constructive feedback is much appreciated and welcomed! Thank you so much for reading and have a good day/night!


End file.
